


The Boxing Ring

by ash_mcj



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Laura Kinney, Combat, Crushes, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, Harley Keener is Steve Rogers' Adopted Child, Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Adopted Child, Harley Keener-centric, Harley is 17, Laura Howlett - Freeform, Laura is 16, Punching, Sparring, Superhusbands, Worried Steve Rogers, Worried Tony Stark, boxing ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:28:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25421662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ash_mcj/pseuds/ash_mcj
Summary: It was nearly midnight when Harley Stark came home, shirtless, bruised, and bleeding.“Harley, where have you been? You were supposed to be home over an hour ago--what the hell happened to you?” Tony fussed, jumping up from the couch to look over his bruised cheekbone and bloody nose.“Were you in a fight? Are you alright?” Steve asked, coming to inspect his son as well. Harley just waved them away with a stupid grin on his face, wincing slightly at the pain from his swollen lip and his parents' prodding."I've literally never been better," He assured them. “I met the coolest chick at the boxing ring tonight.”
Relationships: Harley Keener/Laura Kinney, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	The Boxing Ring

**Author's Note:**

> I don't write teenage Harley (or straight Harley...) very often, so this was a fun change of pace :3

It was nearly midnight when Harley Stark came home, shirtless, bruised, and bleeding.

“Harley, where have you been? You were supposed to be home over an hour ago--what the hell happened to you?” Tony fussed, jumping up from the couch to look over his bruised cheekbone and bloody nose.

“Were you in a fight? Are you alright?” Steve asked, coming to inspect his son as well. Harley just waved them away with a stupid grin on his face, wincing slightly at the pain from his swollen lip and his parents' prodding.

"I've literally never been better," He assured them. “I met the coolest chick at the boxing ring tonight.”

_**2 hours earlier**_

Harley had just gotten to _The Ring_ , a local boxing ring he had been frequenting lately, when he noticed that someone was already there--which was pretty odd for 9:30pm on a Tuesday. Usually the facility was empty at night, save for the few people who would come to practice their punches on their friend’s hand paddles from time to time. Nobody was ever using his favorite punching bag at this hour.

The girl was probably six inches shorter than Harley, but he guessed she was around the same age as him, about 16 or 17. She had long black hair pulled up into a messy ponytail and sweat soaked through her loose grey crop top, which matched her leggings. He figured she’d probably been there awhile.

“You almost done?” He asked her, walking up to the corner of the room she was in and setting his gym bag on the wooden bench against the wall. 

“Nope,” She grunted, before unleashing a series of jabs and kicks that were so flawless it would have made Harley’s jaw drop open if his entire family weren’t combat-trained superheroes. “My brothers have been gettin’ on my nerves all week since we moved to this stupid city and if I don’t let out some more steam before goin’ home, I’ll kill one of ‘em.”

Harley figured she was kidding, but nothing about her voice or demeanor suggested that she was.

“Could you maybe switch to the other punching bag or something? My curfew is in an hour and I want to get in some time with my favorite bag.”

“You want me to use the broken one?” She asked, turning towards him for the first time. Her eyes were a vivid green that held more threats than Harley could even decipher--but he was sure they were all there. “Why don’t we do somethin’ more effective than fightin’ over the one usable bag...let’s spar. The ring’s empty.”

“Spar? Against you?” Harley asked with an uncertain raise of his eyebrow. He sized her up briefly--definitely at _least_ half of a foot shorter than him and thin. Not quite dainty, but definitely small. _Maybe_ 110 pounds. “I’d break you, Sweetheart.”

“You shouldn’t have so much faith in yourself, _Darlin' ,_ ” She challenged him. “I’m not sharin’ the punchin’ bag with you, so we’re either sparrin’ or you’re goin’ home before you break curfew.”

“I’m not fighting you.” Harley shook his head. “I don’t hit girls. Especially feisty little 5’2” ones with anger issues. That’s a recipe for disaster.”

“You’re ridiculous.” She rolled her eyes, unfastening the strap around her wrist that secured her gloves. “You can’t really injure me.”

“Remember when you said that thing about me needing to have less confidence in myself? I’m not the one who needed that advice.”

The girl looked around the _The Ring_ , seemingly making sure they were alone, before she pulled off her glove and tossed it onto the bench. “Can you keep a secret?”

“I guess,” He replied hesitantly.

“I’m supposed to be keepin’ a low profile, so you can’t tell _anyone_ , got it? You blab, I’ll cut your tongue outta your head.”

“You’re not about to pull out a dick, right?” He asked her cautiously.

“What?”

“Because I said I don’t fight girls, and now you’re talking about low profiles and secrets. If you’re trans or something, that’s awesome and I love that you're living your life the way you want--but I don’t wanna see a dick,” Harley explained. “I mean, not to say that if you _are_ trans, you aren’t a girl--obviously you’re a girl, but--”

“What’s it feel like to have less than half a brain cell in your entire head?”

Laura motioned for him to follow her over to the wall and held up her fist. He looked at it confusedly, before she suddenly punched the brick wall, using her back foot to throw her weight into it. Harley almost gagged at the sound of her knuckles crunching under the impact. She pulled her fist back and cursed under her breath, her face scrunched up in pain.

“What the hell, Psycho?!” Harley exclaimed, looking at the bloody, misshapen knuckles. “You just broke your hand for _no_ reason.”

“Just give me thirty seconds,” She told him, flexing her fingers slowly. 

“You need a doctor,” He told her. “For your hand _and_ your head.”

She ignored him, grabbing a towel from her gym bag and wiping the blood from her knuckles. She held her healed hand up in front of her face, wiggling her fingers.

Harley stepped closer to her to look at her hand, intrigued. The scraped skin and distorted knuckles were back to normal, as if nothing had happened at all.

“How’s that possible?” He asked, reaching out and tracing over the area.

“I heal. So...there ya go. There’s your proof that you won’t break me if we spar.”

“If you have enough pent up anger to shatter your own fist just to prove a point, you need more than a boxing match to cool off,” Harley told her.

“Maybe,” She agreed. “Therapy isn’t really my style, though, so...here I am. Wanna spar?”

“Yeah, sure,” He gave in. “Just so you know, though, I’ve been doing this for awhile. I’ve had extensive combat training--my family is real into that stuff."

“So have I,” She said, before jogging over to the boxing ring and climbing up onto the mat.

The girl motioned for Harley to attack first, so he threw a punch towards her shoulder. She effortlessly grabbed his arm before he reached her, twisted it behind his back, and then brought her leg up to lightly kick him in the back, sending him stumbling forward.

“I was just going easy on you to give you some time to warm up,” Harley defended himself, coming back over to her. “Why don’t you come at me first this time?”

Harley didn’t even see the fist coming at his face, until he felt it connect with his cheekbone.

“Sorry, I thought you were ready,” She apologized.

Harley thought he was ready, too.

Hoping to catch her off-guard, he threw himself forward and attempted a kick to her abdomen, but she easily caught his foot and twisted his leg, turning him around backwards. She jerked his leg towards her, throwing him off balance and causing him to slip onto the floor.

“Wherever you were combat trained, you should ask for a refund,” She told him, holding her hand out to help him up. He batted it away and got himself to his feet.

“Again,” He growled, feeling the competitiveness that always managed to get him into trouble bubbling up in his chest. The girl seemed to sense his change in demeanor and smirked as she returned to her fighting stance.

Harley completely lost track of the time in that boxing ring, just as he lost track of how many times he was punched, kicked, pinned, and put in a chokehold. No matter how hard he fought, he just couldn’t beat her.

“Who _are_ you?” He wheezed from the mat, trying to get his breath back after the girl had somehow slam-dunked him into the floor.

“The name’s Laura,” She told him, sitting in front of him. “What about you?”

“Harley,” He answered. “You think we could do this again sometime? Maybe after I go through a few more combat training sessions?”

“Well, my family drives me up the wall a lot, so I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.” She nodded, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Maybe next time I’ll teach you a few moves.”

“Please,” He chuckled. “Teach me your ways.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! Kudos/Comments/Bookmarks are super appreciated! <3


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